


one man in his time plays many parts

by quillsand



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: AND FLOWERS, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Theatre, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF, theatre au that isn't really a theatre au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-08-29 13:42:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8492014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quillsand/pseuds/quillsand
Summary: Combeferre considers him for a moment. "May I?" he eventually asks, holding out his hand.Courfeyrac has no idea what Combeferre is asking, but it doesn't stop him from nodding his head anyway. The smile Combeferre gives him is worth it, as he gingerly reaches for Courfeyrac's hands and holds them in his own. Courfeyrac's breath hitches. It shouldn't feel this intimate to hold hands, he thinks dimly, as Combeferre's thumbs run over the soft skin of his palms. _____As an understudy, Courfeyrac has to fill in for a main role when one of the actor's breaks their ankle. Combeferre helps him control his nerves.(ft. pining, excitable characters, a whole lot of smiling, and Courfeyrac's favourite type of flower.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> hi again !!! so this is my second les mis fic (within a week of posting the first one lol, what can i say, i love this fandom) and this time it's courferre !! i've never written them before so be gentle w me
> 
> also: i know next to nothing of theatre, having only been in a handful of school productions myself (and nothing like the scale of the one portrayed here) so you'll have to attribute any mistakes to Artistic License. similarly, i know nothing of university and have intentionally left details vague so that there are as few mistakes as possible
> 
> i don't think there are any potentially triggering things for this one- courf mentions being nervous a lot but it's nothing like full-blown anxiety so i think it should be fine (let me know if otherwise and i'll tag it)
> 
> enjoy !!

Courfeyrac gets the call at eleven am.

He's in the library with Combeferre studying for his latest communications exam when his phone rings. After a glare from the library monitor, Courfeyrac throws Combeferre an apologetic smile before leaving to answer.

The conversation is quick; Courfeyrac barely has time to digest anything, only answering "Yes," and "Of course," before the person on the other end closes the conversation with "Be there at six." and he hears the beep of the receiver.

He's sat on the steps leading up to the library doors trying to process the call when Combeferre finds him.

"You were gone a while," he explains, "Is everything alright?" 

Courfeyrac takes a long time before he manages to make the muscles in his neck work enough to nod.

"Courf?" 

"I'm fine," Courfeyrac says, hating the worrying tone in Combeferre's voice. "I'm... I'm good, actually. I think, anyway." he adds, frowning.

"Who was that on the phone?"

Courfeyrac laughs, once, and runs a hand through his hair. "Theatre department. You know the play I'm part of the ensemble for?" Combeferre nods. "My understudy duties are required to fill in for one of the main actors." 

Hearing himself say the words somehow makes it more real, and Courfeyrac draws in a shaky breath as a smile breaks out on Combeferre's face. 

"That's great!" Combeferre exclaims, and _damn him_ for being so adorable when he's excited, Courfeyrac thinks, a small smile appearing on his own lips. 

"Yeah, apparently Brad injured his ankle at his cousin's birthday party- don't ask me how, I have no clue- and he won't be able to walk on it for a few days." 

Combeferre winces, "Not so great for him then, I suppose."

Courfeyrac hums in agreement. 

He'd been ecstatic to be cast in the theatre department's newest production- an original play by one of the post graduate students- even though he only had a small role in the ensemble. He'd been even more ecstatic, when, after one of their early rehearsals, he'd been requested to attend extra rehearsals with the main cast so he'd be available as an understudy. 

(Courfeyrac hasn't told anyone except Combeferre and Enjolras about the understudy part, even if all of his friends know he's in the ensemble. If they have any questions about why Courfeyrac seems to practice more than the other ensemble members, they don't ask.)

It just hadn't seemed important- being chosen for an understudy role, however flattering Courfeyrac had found it, probably wouldn't actually result in anything other than a nice title on his CV, he'd reasoned. It was a thinly veiled attempt at not rising his own hopes as much as those of his friends. 

See, Courfeyrac is an excitable person and he's had tons of small roles in various theatre productions here and there- but this is bigger. 

The show is being performed on the university's biggest stage, and it's also been sold out for a good week or so now. Courfeyrac is thrilled to be a part of it at all, never mind as part of the main cast.

It's a little terrifying, to say the least. 

"Courf?" Combeferre asks again at Courfeyrac's distinct quiet. "Are you okay? I imagined you'd be more excited about this."

"I am," Courfeyrac speaks quickly, aiming to assure Combeferre he's fine, "I am, really. It's just nerves, but I'm fine." he even flashes Combeferre one of his most dazzling smiles to prove it. 

Combeferre regards him with something between concern and suspicion. Courfeyrac makes an effort to smile wider.

"You're sure?"

Courfeyrac nods enthusiastically and gives Combeferre two thumbs up to emphasise the point. 

"You'd talk to me or someone else if you weren't?" 

_You_ , Courfeyrac thinks immediately and blushes. He nods again at Combeferre.

Combeferre still doesn't look entirely convinced but he relaxes his face into something less intense and his eyes seem to sparkle when they look at Courfeyrac.

"Celebratory dinner, then? We can go to the new fair trade coffee place Enjolras has been raving about."

Courfeyrac quells the faint edge of anxiety in his chest and beams up at Combeferre.

"Sounds great." 

____

Courfeyrac hadn't been lying earlier when he said he was fine. 

Yes, the call had come as a bit of a shock, and yes, his nerves are practically through the roof, but his main response is excitement. This has only been his dream for longer than he can remember, no big deal. 

Courfeyrac takes a deep breath as he faces himself in the mirror. Two hours until he has to be at the theater to prepare for opening. 

He knows his lines, his cues, his many stage directions. He's had it nailed for weeks, but before today he'd never even dared to think he might actually get the opportunity to perform them. Suddenly all the rehearsals Courfeyrac has attended, all the lines he's memorised- none of it seems enough. There's no way he can compare with the easy flowing dynamic the main cast has- it's obvious how familiar with each other they are even from Courfeyrac's usual place at the back of the stage. How is he supposed to compete with that? 

He's rehearsed with the rest of the main cast only a handful of times, he knows they're nice enough people but that doesn't change the fact that Courfeyrac simply isn't one of them. It doesn't change the fact that people are going to show up expecting to see Brad and instead they're going to get... him. 

There's a knock on the bathroom door just as Courfeyrac is washing his shaky hands for the third time in a row. 

"In a moment, Marius!" he calls, splashing the cool spray on his face in a desperate effort to cool down. _This always looks so much more dignified in movies_ , Courfeyrac thinks bitterly as he ends up with water in his hair and down the front of his shirt.

He opens the door expecting to see his roommate, and does a double take at the sight of Combeferre stood there, raising his fist to knock again. 

Courfeyrac is frozen for a second before he remembers how to speak. "Ferre!" he exclaims, fixing a smile on his face, "What're you doing here?"

Combeferre smiles wryly, "I came to see how you were doing. Marius said you'd been in your room for most of the afternoon, that's unlike you." 

Courfeyrac blushes. Marius had obviously worried about him- worried enough to call Combeferre. (Then again, Marius worries about everyone, sweet person that he is, so maybe it's not such a big deal.)

"I'm fine," Courfeyrac chirps, which is mostly true. "Just a little nervous."

"I can see that." Combeferre says, nodding to Courfeyrac's hands, which are still shaking. Courfeyrac laughs, embarrassed, and waves one of them about in a dismissive gesture as if to say _'This? This is nothing.'_

Combeferre considers him for a moment. "May I?" he eventually asks, holding out his hand.

Courfeyrac has no idea what Combeferre is asking, but it doesn't stop him from nodding his head anyway. The smile Combeferre gives him is worth it, as he gingerly reaches for Courfeyrac's hands and holds them in his own. 

Courfeyrac's breath hitches. It shouldn't feel this intimate to hold hands, he thinks dimly, as Combeferre's thumbs run over the soft skin of his palms. 

Combeferre indicates towards the sofa with his head and leads Courfeyrac to sit down. Marius must have left when Combeferre arrived since there's no sign of him in the apartment, and somehow the knowledge that it's just him and Combeferre alone makes the whole situation a lot more intense. 

Which is ridiculous, really. Courfeyrac's been alone with Combeferre more times than it would be possible for him to count, there's no logical reason the thought should make his heart beat faster.

_And yet._

"You're going to be amazing." Combeferre says, looking Courfeyrac straight in the eyes and squeezing his hand as he does. He's using what Courfeyrac has dubbed his _'no bullshit'_ voice; the one he uses to cut down other people's arguments with a just few concise and well-suited words. 

It makes Courfeyrac shiver.

"Thanks," he rasps, squeezing Combeferre's hands back and feeling surprised at his own boldness. 

"I managed to get tickets." Combeferre says then, and it would seem offhand if not for the way he's obviously trying to gauge Courfeyrac's reaction. 

"Really?" Courfeyrac asks, stunned. He'd been disappointed at first, to realise he'd be performing his first major role and none of his friends would even get to see it. "How? I mean, I thought it was sold out?"

Combeferre nudges Courfeyrac with his shoulder. "I have my ways." he teases, laughing at Courfeyrac's unamused expression. "Okay, I called in a few favours. A group booking cancelled last minute and they were willing to let me buy up to three of the tickets."

Courfeyrac just stares. He knows how expensive last minute tickets are- hell, he'd been appalled when he found out how expensive last minute tickets are. 

And Combeferre had bought _three_.

"But," Courfeyrac splutters, not quite managing to find the words. "But... Combeferre! You didn't have to do that." he says quietly.

Combeferre frowns slightly. "Did you not want me to? I can still return them, if you'd really rather I didn't come. But I'd like to go." the last part is said in almost a whisper, and for the first time during their whole exchange, Combeferre's eyes drop, staring instead at a space just above their still joined hands. 

Courfeyrac gapes. "No! No, that's not it at all! Of course I want you there!" he hastens to correct. "I just... Ferre, this must have cost a fortune. Thank you." 

"You're welcome- although you really don't have to thank me, I want to see you perform. You're amazing when you're on stage, Courf, honestly. You have so much passion and you're so emotional, and heartfelt, and..." Combeferre trails off, the slightest hint of pink tinting his dark cheeks. "Besides," he continues after a pause, "You'd have a hard time convincing Enjolras not to show up now. He's thrilled for you."

Heart thumping in his chest wildly, Courfeyrac decides to focus on the easiest part of Combeferre's speech. "Enjolras?"

"Well yes. You didn't think he'd miss it, did you? I'm pretty sure he's planning to ambush you with flowers as soon as it's over. I wouldn't be surprised if he had them sent straight to your dressing room."

"Oh heavens no," Courfeyrac laughs, the tension fading, "That'd be awful." 

Combeferre's eyes crease at the edges and Courfeyrac feels like he falls just a little bit more in love with him. 

Clearing his throat ostensibly, Courfeyrac steels himself before saying: "And what about you?"

Combeferre just gives him a bemused look. 

"Will you be waiting to ambush me with flowers?" he asks, the sentence falling out in a rush. 

Combeferre blinks. His face breaks into a grin. He squeezes Courfeyrac's hand again. "If it would make you happy." he says. 

Courfeyracs heart swells as he nods, and he must be feeling bold today, because as soon as the words are out of Combeferre's mouth, Courfeyrac raises the other man's hand to his face and places a kiss upon his knuckles.

When he looks up, Combeferre is staring at him with an almost indiscernible expression. Courfeyrac blushes even harder, but he doesn't lower his gaze from Combeferre's face. There's a faint buzzing in his mind that's telling him he's been reading it wrong- that all of Combeferre's actions and compliments and even the hand-holding had been nothing more than friendly affection, and now Courfeyrac has gone and made it weird.

But Combeferre just smiles.

They talk for a while longer about the play, Combeferre doing an effective job at calming Courfeyrac's nerves, and there's nothing awkward about it at all. When it's time for Combeferre to leave ("I have to go and fine some flowers, don't I?" he grins at the door) they depart with a hug and- Courfeyrac's heart almost stops- Combeferre kisses his cheek before walking out of the apartment. 

As he stands there slightly dazed, with his fingers gently hovering over the skin where Combeferre's mouth had just been, Courfeyrac forgets to be nervous.

___

Courfeyrac is nervous.

His leg jitters for the whole car ride to the theater, enough that it must drive Marius mad, but Marius pointedly doesn't bring it up and instead starts a discussion about the latest _Les Amis_ meeting. 

Courfeyrac is so grateful for his usually oblivious friend's sudden bout of tactfulness that he almost cries. (He doesn't, but he does make a mental reminder to ask Marius about how things are with Cosette the next time they're alone.)

Once Marius has dropped him off with a hug and a whisper of "Good luck! I know you'll be great!" Courfeyrac takes a deep breath and walks up to the entrance of the huge building. 

The next few hours are full of cotumes, make-up, and last minute line learning for Courfeyrac. There's only a slight hitch when the cape Brad usually wears turns out to be too long for Courfeyrac, but it's quickly fixed when one of the tech assistants stitches the hem up a few centimeters. 

Being backstage is almost always a lot calmer than Courfeyrac expects, but tonight he can barely think for all the noise around him. Logically he knows it's no worse than usual, but everything seems _louder_ , and he has to grip the bottom of his chair to keep himself grounded. 

One of the main actors, Stephanie, puts an arm on is shoulder, "You'll be fine." she whispers, even thought there's no need to- the house is barely even half full. "I was nervous too, my first performance, but I've seen you in rehearsals and you're great. Don't worry so much." Courfeyrac can't really find words to reply to that, but he hopes the smile he gives expresses the thanks that his voice is unable to.

He knows he'll be fine as soon as he's onstage and starts speaking. It's the waiting that kills him.

Steadily, the murmur of voices becomes louder and louder until the theater is full. Courfeyrac barely even registers the lights going down and the orchestra starting to play, and before he knows it, it's his cue and he's walking out of the wings like he's done it a million times before.

Onstage, he sees the same sight he sees every night, only this time, the focus is on him. The spotlight is warm on his skin and hundreds of eyes follow his movements- Combeferre, Enjolras, and Marius among them. 

Courfeyrac exhales slowly. 

He looks out to the audience.

He speaks.

\---

The show passes with no glitches. Courfeyrac takes his bow as part of the cast and feels like he could burst with the happiness inside his chest. The cheer from the crowd is wild, as it is most nights, but tonight it's different for Courfeyrac. Tonight, they're cheering for him.

After the show, Courfeyrac is delighted to see his friends kept their promises. He is ambushed first by Enjolras, who seems close to tears when he pulls Courfeyrac in for the tightest of hugs. The flowers Enjolras gives him are Courfeyrac's favourite- yellow daisies- and they're wrapped tastefully with gold ribbon around the middle. 

Marius is next to greet him, offering a hug and an apology that he didn't buy Courfeyrac any flowers. Courfeyrac laughs it off and Marius takes the opportunity to hug him again instead.

He looks lastly to Combeferre, who has stayed a distance from the other two, hanging back. At Courfeyrac's questioning expression, he steps forward sheepishly to hand Courfeyrac another bouquet of flowers.

Flowers that Courfeyrac realises are roses.

Courfeyrac's cheeks flame, turning his face the same shade of red as the flowers he now clutches in his hands, and he bites his lower lip nervously. Surely this doesn't mean..?

Combeferre hesitantly steps towards Courfeyrac, reaching a hand up to brush a curl from his forehead. "You were amazing." Combeferre tells him, and there's so much awe in his voice that Courfeyrac has to restrain himself from throwing all caution to the wind and kissing him right there.

Apparently unsure of what to do with his hand now that it's next to Courfeyrac's head, Combeferre rests his palm against Courfeyrac's cheek. The gesture has a questioning air to it, as if Combeferre is asking _'is this alright?'_ with his touch. Courfeyrac leans into the contact to assure Combeferre that, _yes, this is more than alright._

Combeferre's breath hitches as he repeats what he'd said earlier, right before he'd held Courfeyrac's hands: "May I?"

Courfeyrac can't do anything but smile as he nods vigorously. The corners of Combeferre's mouth crinkle as he chuckles softly, lifting his other hand to the other side of Courfeyrac's face.

Combeferre's lips are warm where they meet Courfeyrac's. He kisses softly, even if the angle is a little bit strange because Courfeyrac just can't stop the smile that spreads itself over his face. 

Combeferre pulls back after what might've been a minute, or what might've been a decade, Courfeyrac's not sure, but he's smiling and Combeferre's smiling, and then they're laughing, foreheads pressed together, Combeferre's hands resting on his shoulders, and everything is perfect. 

Much like the feeling he gets whilst onstage- when he kisses Combeferre, everything else ceases to exist.

**Author's Note:**

> as i said before, i'm new to this pairing and this fandom so feedback and comments are like air for me
> 
> thank you for reading !!!
> 
> (title is from shakespeare bc... theatre)


End file.
